


since we've no place to go

by justadreamfox



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: AFTG Winter Exchange 2020, Alternate Universe - No Exy (All For The Game), Christmas fic, College Student Kandreil, Fluff, M/M, Multi, and there was only one bed, artist!Andrew Minyard, basically a Hallmark Christmas movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28131993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justadreamfox/pseuds/justadreamfox
Summary: Neil is already regretting the decision to spend his winter break alone at The Snarky Fox Inn, but then a snowstorm blows in along with Kevin and Andrew, and, well - maybe there's some Christmas magic to be had after all.
Relationships: Kevin Day/Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 22
Kudos: 171
Collections: AFTG Exchange Winter 2020





	since we've no place to go

**Author's Note:**

> Happiest of Winter Exchange to [mini-minyard](https://mini-minyard.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> They gave me the loveliest prompts and I tried to snug 'em all in here: snowball fight, hot chocolate/fireplace cuddles, Christmas tree decorating, and mistletoe. 
> 
> Many kudos and all the love to my cheerleader [likearecord](https://archiveofourown.org/users/likearecord/profile) and my beta destroyer [makebelieveanything](https://archiveofourown.org/users/makebelieveanything/)

  
  


_ Oh, the weather outside is frightful _

_ But the fire is so delightful _

_ And since we've no place to go _

_ Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow _

  
  


Neil wasn’t prone to reading magazines, but he’d twisted his ankle in practice when Jeremy had (illegally) slide tackled him, and though Neil had assured his coach he was  _ fine, _ he’d been sent down for an x-ray anyway - which had left Neil with the options of either staring at the wall or flipping through the lone sad magazine in the waiting room. Which is how Neil found himself perusing  _ Travel & Leisure _ while he waited for a radiology tech, idly scanning the pages without focusing on anything in particular until he landed on the full page advertisement on the inside of the back cover. 

The Snarky Fox Inn, nestled in the foothills of the Poconos, was displayed across the glossy page in all her holiday splendor. A blanket of snow was piled at least six inches high on the roof and window sills of the sprawling stone hotel, holly wreaths and red bows abounded, and the windows glowed with warmth. An inset photo on the page showed a Christmas tree that had to be 12 feet tall in the great room of the hotel next to a cozy fireplace, the mantle hung with holly and candy canes and twinkling lights. 

Something about it struck him. After staring at it for several minutes, Neil had ripped out the ad, folded it, and shoved it into his jeans pocket. As the semester dragged closer to the end, he couldn’t get the merry image of The Snarky Fox Inn out of his head - the promise of warmth and love and a Christmas that actually looked like Christmas. He  _ wanted _ that. 

Now, as Neil splayed listlessly across the king size bed and watched the snow swirl energetically outside his hotel room window, his phone clutched tightly in one hand, he thought - not for the first time today - that booking a romantic hotel room in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania to spend Christmas alone might not have been the best idea he’d ever had. 

Jeremy had texted him three times today and sent pictures of his sisters making sugar cookies. They were covered in flour and wearing aprons with reindeer and snowmen on them, the California sun shining merrily through the kitchen window behind them. Yesterday it had been a picture of Jeremy putting a glittery soccer ball on the tree that his mom had made him, and then a video of Jeremy singing a truly horrendous version of Jingle Bells (something about Batman and Robin?), his half empty glass of eggnog waving dangerously in the air. 

Laila and Alvarez had sent him more snapchats than he could count over the last two days; a row of eight mouth watering tacos lined up in front of a truly epic margarita; an agave cactus with Christmas baubles placed on each spiky arm; a terrifying shot of a giant peter pan in a Santa hat - Laila brandishing her putt putt club at it. The last one they sent was his favorite though - a selfie Alvarez took of Laila snuggling her face into her girlfriend’s neck, Alvarez kissing the top of her hair, mistletoe hanging from the adobe archway above their heads. 

He’d gotten one phone call from Uncle Stuart too, which Neil had stared at until it went to voicemail. Neil had waited an hour to listen to it, his Uncle’s smooth words reminding him it wasn’t too late to book a flight to Heathrow and come home for Christmas. 

But that was just it. Neil hadn’t really figured out what home was yet, but it wasn’t in London with his mobster relatives. He’d barely escaped his father’s empire with his life intact, he certainly wasn’t going to dive in head first with the Hatfords. He’d refused the offer to move to London after the Butcher of Baltimore had killed Neil’s mom, and then been taken down by the Hatford Clan in a vengeful coup. Neil had been emancipated, had finished out high school in a small boarding school outside of DC, and managed to get into Columbia for college. New York had felt like a fresh start; he walked on to the soccer team as a freshman, was immediately adopted by Jeremy, and subsequently by Laila and Alvarez from the women’s team. Stuart seemed to get it. He kept Neil’s tuition paid and his bank account flush - but he also kept the offer of  _ more _ on the table.

Alvarez and Jeremy had both offered - begged, really - for Neil to come home with them. He’d watched them fight over him for a good ten minutes, Jeremy arguing the merits of San Diego and Alvarez fighting fiercely for Austin, before Laila had finally cut in, amused, and asked Neil what he actually wanted to do. 

And Neil - well, Neil had lied. Said he was going to see family, fly to London. He still had a hard time believing that these three amazing humans were his to keep - real friends - and he was mildly terrified that if he followed them home for Christmas they’d get sick of him, the farce would be over, and he would once again be alone.

They hadn’t pushed it, because why would Neil’s friends expect him to lie to them? Instead, once finals were over, the only three friends Neil had in the world flew out to their respective loving homes, and Neil had rented a car and started driving south.

***

Neil had booked the holiday package, which included all of his meals in the hotel’s restaurant. It was more of a pub, really, with exposed beam ceilings, a long, well-stocked bar, and intimate tables scattered in corners throughout the room - every inch of which was decked in rustic holiday cheer. 

The ad hadn’t lied to him; The Snarky Fox Inn was beautiful and warm and welcoming - Christmas come to life. It was just that Neil had lied to himself. He’d run away to Pennsylvania to chase the pipedream of a storybook Christmas, but even this far away from New York he was still just Neil, party of one, thank you very much. He was bored out of his mind, and lonelier than he would have been if he’d stayed in New York. 

Neil sat at a corner table in the pub, picking at his mac and cheese and half heartedly scrolling through flights to London, and then San Diego, and then Austin, before flipping his phone upside down on the table, frustrated with himself. 

Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, he was booked through New Years, but maybe he’d just - leave. Drive somewhere. Anywhere. Maybe the problem was he couldn’t drive fast enough or far enough to leave himself behind. 

His phone buzzed on the table. Another text from Jeremy -  _ are you gonna send me any pictures of jolly old london or what? _ He felt a brief twist in his gut for the lie he’d told his friends.

Neil wandered out of the pub after dinner feeling reckless and restless, thinking about the keys to the rental car, how fast he could pack up and check out, which direction he would drive, whether the hotel would give him any sort of refund. 

He headed to registration to ask about his options, but stopped short when the large front door swung open and two men came through, bundled up in hats and scarves and puffer coats against the snow that was falling in earnest now, a gust of flakes whirling in after them. 

The tall one marched right up to the desk, pulling his hat and scarf off as he went, sending a riot of black hair sticking straight up with static.

“Hi there,” the guy said to the woman behind the desk. “Apparently it is Snowmageddan and your governor has declared a state of emergency. My friend and I have to get off the road, and you are the fifth hotel we have tried - please tell me you have a room available.”

“Oh gosh,” the woman said, looking genuinely sorry. “We are just - all booked up! It’s Christmas you know.”

“Is it really,” the shorter one at the door said drily. He’d pulled his beanie off too, his blond hair wavy on top and trimmed on the sides in a fashionable undercut, and Neil realized with a start that this one was shorter than he was, which was. Rare. Blondie caught him staring and raised an eyebrow at him. 

The tall one threw blondie a look before turning back to the desk, leaning a little on his elbows. Neil watched the woman flush and could only imagine the look he was giving her - he could certainly  _ hear _ the look in the guy’s tone when he said, “Are you sure there isn’t anything you can do?”

“I can’t make a room appear out of thin air, sorry sir.” She looked like she really wished she could, but she just smiled apologetically instead. The guy’s shoulders drooped at that, and even from the back he just looked - tired. 

Neil opened his mouth before he even realized what he was going to say. “You can share my room.” 

The tall one whipped around, and blondie turned to face him more fully, and suddenly Neil was pinned to the floor by one pair of curious green eyes and a distrustful set of golden hazel ones. Neil shrugged. He hadn’t meant to say that, not really, but he  _ was _ feeling reckless and restless and...lonely. 

Neil assessed them quickly while they stared at each other. Tall one had unzipped his coat at the desk, and Neil could see an NYU hoodie peeking out from behind the zipper. Blondie looked - intense - but it had been a long time since Neil was anything but the most dangerous person in a room. He wasn’t concerned. 

“I have a suite,” Neil said with another shrug. “Like you said, Snowmaggeden.” 

The two exchanged a look, something unspoken passing between them, and then the tall one graced Neil with a blinding smile and held out his hand. “That would be great. I’m Kevin. That’s Andrew. We’re happy to take the floor, a couch, whatever.” 

“Speak for yourself,” Andrew said, stepping up closer to them and looking Neil over. Neil knew when he was being assessed for threat. He kept still, let him look, and wondered what the fuck he’d just gotten himself into. 

***

“What do you mean you just - came here for Christmas?” Kevin asked him.

Neil wasn’t sure why he’d confessed to his idiocy, but Kevin and Andrew had taken over his suite, the three of them flopped in various disarray in the sitting room, and in the surreal manner of things that were his life, he now had two temporary roommates. 

“I don’t know why you sound surprised,” Andrew drawled. “This is the same man who invited two wayward strangers to bunk down with him in a snowstorm.” He was cross legged on the floor, back against the wall and a sketchbook flipped open on his lap. His charcoal pencil moved steadily over the page and he’d barely flipped his gaze up as Kevin had badgered Neil with enough questions over the last twenty minutes to learn that he went to Columbia, played forward on the soccer team, was studying linguistics and had - in fact - come down to The Snarky Fox to spend Christmas alone for no goddamned apparent reason. 

Maybe it was that he was lonely, that he’d been silently imploding, pumped and primed to run away. Maybe it was that he’d just met Kevin and Andrew and there was no risk - they’d stay here a night or two, move on, and Neil would never see them again. Maybe he was just completely losing his mind, but for some reason he got up, tugged the creased and faded magazine ad from his book bag, and dropped it in Kevin’s lap before sprawling on the floor again. 

Kevin unfolded the squares carefully and frowned at it for a minute before folding it up and throwing it at Andrew. Andrew snatched it out of the air before it hit him in the face, and Neil briefly thought that if he wasn’t so short he’d love to see Andrew playing goalkeeper - but the idea of a five foot goalie was comical at best. 

Andrew unfolded the ad and looked at it impassively before tucking it into the back of his sketchbook. “Are you going to give that back?” Neil asked. 

“No,” Andrew said, without looking up. 

“Why?” Neil asked.

“Because it’s not real,” he muttered. 

Neil couldn’t argue with that. 

“So you both go to NYU, you live together, and you are heading to South Carolina,” Neil said, changing the subject by summarizing the very small amounts of information he had gathered so far about these two. 

“Well we don’t like, live together,” Kevin said. 

Andrew snorted. “Yes we do.”

“I just mean,” Kevin hesitated. “We’re not together. We’ve been friends forever and decided to room together for college when we both picked NYU.”

Andrew snorted again. Kevin blushed a little. Neil was confused. 

“So you are roommates?” he said. 

“Right, that,” Kevin agreed.

“That seemed like an incredibly complicated way to say that,” Neil said. 

Andrew snorted a third time and pointed at Neil without looking up, which prompted Kevin to reach out one long leg to kick his shoe, earning him a brief hazel glare before Andrew turned his attention back to the sketchpad. 

Kevin rolled his eyes and stretched out on the tiny couch with an exaggerated yawn. “We’re from Palmetto - a small town in South Carolina. Andrew’s family is in Berlin, so we usually spend Christmas break with my dad.”

“But Kevin wanted to take the scenic route this year,” Andrew said. “Which means we ended up on backcountry roads when this storm hit, which means there were hardly any hotels, which means,” Andrew looked up and held Neil’s gaze steadily as he ripped the page he was working on carefully out of his sketchbook, “you are stuck with us.” 

Neil took the page out of his hand. He looked down and froze. It was him - his face captured in perfect detail in black and white, the freckle above his upper lip, the scar that ran through his right eyebrow, his hair falling over his forehead in a tumble, the cheekbones that were the only thing on his face that reminded him of his mom, and the three lines carved into the left side of his face that reminded him of his dad - those were there too. Neil reached up and traced fingers lightly on his scars without quite realizing what he was doing. 

“He’s good, isn’t he,” Kevin said softly, and Neil looked up to find both of them watching him intently. Neil dropped his fingers from his face.    
  
“Yeah,” Neil agreed quietly. 

***

They talked late into the night with the ease of three college students who lived in the same city. Andrew was studying art - no surprise there - and Kevin history. They’d both played lacrosse in high school, because apparently Kevin’s dad - who Andrew called Wymack - was the coach. They’d known each other since ninth grade and bickered like an old married couple. 

It was fascinating. 

By the time all three of them were yawning and the snow was piled over a foot high outside the window, Neil found himself grateful that Andrew and Kevin had tumbled through the doors into the Snarky Fox Inn that night. It was close to midnight when he stood, put his hands on his hips, and evaluated the room. 

Kevin was well over six feet tall and while he seemed quite happy stretched out on the couch, he didn’t quite fit - his feet were propped up over one armrest and his head was tucked at an awkward angle against the other. Andrew was upside down on the floor, legs straight up the wall, his arms starfished on either side of him. The suite had a king sized bed that could pretty much swallow Neil whole - he slept curled in a ball on the edge closest to the door no matter what bed he was in, and it felt ridiculous to relegate both of his new friends to an uncomfortable night for no reason. 

“I know you two apparently don’t live together and are merely roommates - whatever the actual difference is,” Neil started. “But if you are comfortable sharing the bed I can take the couch, and that way no one is on the floor.”

Andrew blinked up at him. Kevin looked surprised. “We can’t kick you out of your own bed.”

“It’s fine,” Neil said. “I will sleep the same whether I am in the bed or on the couch.”   


“And how is that?” Andrew asked.

“Lightly,” Neil said with a shrug. They were both staring at him. “What?”

“It’s a king sized bed,” Kevin said. 

“Yeah,” Neil agreed.

“You and I are rather small,” Andrew said.

“Yeah,” Neil agreed. 

“So, what we mean is Andrew and I don’t mind sharing-” Kevin started. 

“What we mean is that if it is a king size bed there is room for all three of us,” Andrew cut in smoothly. “If you want.”

“If I want,” Neil repeated. 

“You know, to sleep with us,” Andrew said, amused. 

“Just friends,” Kevin said quickly. “Just like, sleeping, he means.”

“Do I?” Andrew mused. Kevin threw a pillow at him and he huffed a laugh.

Thirty minutes later the three of them were piled up in Neil’s king size bed - Andrew on the far side near the wall, Neil curled in his little ball on the edge by the door, and Kevin flat on his back in between them. It worked - they were all pretty comfortable, they all had their own space, and Neil felt oddly safe.

Or, it worked until Kevin started snoring softly. 

Neil drifted in and out of sleep for a while. At some point Kevin rolled over, an arm flopping on top of Neil as he started snoring in earnest. He heard Andrew give a small sigh on the other side of the bed, and then stand up to shuffle out of the room. Neil shoved his face in the pillow for a moment, stifling the bizarre urge to giggle at his situation, before carefully extricating himself from Kevin’s arm and following Andrew. 

He found him in the sitting area, shrugging into his puffer coat, pack of cigarettes in hand. 

“You smoke?” Neil asked, blinking in the light at him. 

Andrew gazed at him for a moment. “No,” he said.

“Can I?” Neil asked, pulling on his own coat when Andrew slid open the balcony door. 

“I don’t know, can you?” Andrew said, but he held the door open for Neil.

The balcony had a roof, but the snow was still falling hard, and the wind whirled it into their faces. Andrew turned back towards the door to cup two cigarettes in his hand and light them, handing one to him. Neil cradled it carefully, protecting it from the wind. He only took a couple of drags before the cigarette had burned down to the filter. Andrew finished his first, waiting in silence with his hands in his pockets for Neil, yet when Neil finally gave up on the thing, stubbing it out carefully in the snow on the railing, they stayed outside, watching the snow. It was lovely, actually, and Neil figured there must already be more than two feet on the ground below. 

The whole world looked fresh and sleepy all at once, and it sparkled with magic.

“Does he always snore like that?” Neil asked, breaking the silence.

Andrew huffed. “Yes. Got his nose broken by a lacrosse stick and now his septum is fucked.”

“Whose lacrosse stick?” Neil asked.

The corner of Andrew’s lip tilted up at that. “Mine,” he said blandly.

Neil didn’t know what to say to that so he didn’t say anything. He watched his breath make tiny clouds in the air and he had to blink snowflakes out of his eyes occasionally. He scrunched his nose up and it froze there for a millisecond before returning to normal. 

“Why,” Andrew said, after a while. 

Neil tried to suss out what he meant and failed. “Why what?”

“The hotel,” Andrew said. “Why are you here?”

Neil considered that. Realized he didn’t have a good answer. Thought about Jeremy with his family making cookies and Alvarez and Laila with their holiday cacti. “I just thought it would be...more,” he said. 

Andrew hummed in response, and after they had stood in the silence and the cold for another minute, he tugged on Neil’s coat sleeve to pull him back into the warmth of the room. 

Andrew shrugged back out of his coat, and disappeared into the bedroom. There was some rustling, and then the snoring abruptly stopped. Neil dropped his own coat on the floor and peeked in just in time to see Andrew finish shoving Kevin onto his side, tucking a second pillow carefully under his head. Kevin slept through the whole thing and Neil didn’t miss the way Andrew’s fingers trailed briefly along Kevin’s brow. 

Andrew pointed at him then, and at the bed, and they both crawled back in to curl up on either side of the now quiet Kevin. With nothing but the sound of soft breathing and the winter wind outside, Neil fell into a dreamless sleep. 

***

Neil dropped from sleep into awake in a split second like he always did. He was warm, and comfortable, and … and there was a body pressed up against him, an arm wrapped around him, a leg tossed over his hip. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d woken up wrapped in Jeremy, who had a tendency to fall asleep in Neil’s dorm when they watched movies on the laptop, and it’s not like there was much space in Neil’s twin bed. Jeremy was a cuddler, and Neil didn’t  _ not _ like it. He thought about squeezing his eyes tight and trying to drift back to sleep, but then snoring noises started up against the back of his head. 

Jeremy didn’t snore. 

This wasn’t Jeremy. 

Neil opened his eyes carefully to find Andrew slouched in a chair right in front of his face, sketchbook in his lap and pencil in hand. So it was Kevin who was wrapped around him then. Neil wasn’t sure what time it was, but cocooned in Kevin’s limbs, soft snoring ruffling his hair, the winter light streaming in to highlight Andrew’s messy waves as his charcoal pencil scratched lightly across the page - he felt like he was lost in a dream, a pocket of time that was not his life, a role he had stepped into and put on without anyone noticing. 

Andrew glanced up just then, and his hand paused when he saw Neil looking at him. “Ah. Sleeping beauty awakes,” he said quietly.

“Hi,” Neil said, sand in his voice from sleep. 

Andrew inclined his head. “I should have warned you that Kevin is an octopus.” 

“It’s fine,” Neil whispered back. 

“I could have shoved him off of you but,” Andrew hesitated, and it was the first time Neil had seen him look anything but confident. “You looked peaceful.” 

“I’m used to it,” Neil said. 

Andrew cocked his head a little. “Girlfriend?” 

“No,” Neil said quickly. 

“Boyfriend?” Andrew said, after a moment of consideration. 

“Just a friend.” 

Andrew hummed at that and looked back at his sketchpad, but their talking must have woken Kevin up because the arms around Neil tightened just for a moment and then Kevin’s head popped up over his shoulder with a sleepy, “Fuck.” Kevin pulled away from him quickly, untangling their legs and taking his arm back and Neil was momentarily confused by the feeling of loss. 

“Sorry Neil, I don’t normally do that.” 

“Yes he does,” Andrew said, without looking up. 

Kevin huffed and flopped on his back, stretching long in the bed and Neil took the opportunity to sit up, scrub at his eyes and run his hand through his hair. He’d slept. Well. Huh. 

“Coffee?” Kevin asked hopefully.

Andrew ignored him for a minute, adding a few long strokes of charcoal to his sketch, and then looked up at them. “Downstairs. Apparently they expect the roads to be shut down for at least two more days, so the hotel is providing all meals free of charge to guests since we are stuck here.” 

“Are we guests or freeloaders?” Kevin mused sleepily. 

“Guests,” Andrew said firmly. “I went down and paid for our half of the room this morning, so. Looks like The Snarky Fox has to feed us too.” 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Neil protested. “I can afford it.” 

“So can we,” Andrew said. “Get up losers, I’m hungry.” He ripped the page out of the sketchbook and dropped it on Neil’s lap as he walked out of the room. 

Kevin propped his chin on Neil’s shoulder like it was something they did every day and they looked down at the drawing. It was them - Neil and Kevin, asleep, Kevin’s arm wrapped around Neil, the muscles of his forearm in stark relief, his face tucked into the back of Neil’s neck, his dark hair wild behind him. The scarred side of Neil’s face was pressed into the pillow and he looked….soft. They both stared at it, and then Kevin crawled off the bed and went into the bathroom without saying a word. 

It was still snowing when they shuffled downstairs for coffee and breakfast. The hotel had gone all out - it was Christmas Eve after all. Brunch stations were scattered around the pub - omelettes, waffles, pancakes, eggs benedict - along with pretty much anything else you could want to go with them. They ate, Kevin coming more alive with each cup of coffee he inhaled, Andrew focused on cutting his giant waffle into tiny bites and then dipping each one in a bowl of maple syrup before he ate them. Neil’s spinach omelette was fluffy and amazing, the bacon crispy, his latte perfect. 

They scrolled through the news on their phones while they ate, and it looked like the soonest the state of emergency would be lifted was the day after Christmas. 

“I’m sorry,” Neil said, after he’d eaten his last piece of bacon and given up on finding better news on his phone. 

Kevin blinked at him. ”For what?” 

“You are going to miss Christmas with your family,” Neil said. 

Kevin shrugged. “It’s just a day. Dad will put Christmas on hold until we get there.” 

“You can’t just put Christmas on hold.” 

“Why not?” Kevin asked, pouring cream into his fourth cup of coffee. “Besides, now we get to hang out with you.” Kevin dragged out the dazzling smile he’d given Neil the night before and Neil blinked stupidly. 

“Flirting,” Andrew said, and he threw a piece of waffle at Kevin. It bounced off his forehead and landed on his plate. Kevin popped it in his mouth. “Gross,” Andrew said, and Kevin flipped him off. 

Neil felt like he had missed a step. 

“We should go look at the snow,” Kevin said, grinning.

They went to look at the snow. 

The snowflakes were less aggressive now - almost an afterthought as they danced through the air, the large puffy clouds finally starting to break apart and disperse across the sky. The snow was deep and heavy, the world was sparkling and bright, the air was crisp - and the cars in the parking lot were completely unrecognizable lumps under the blanket of white.

“Where’d you park the Maz?” Kevin asked. 

Andrew considered and turned to point at a specific lump that looked completely indistinguishable from the rest of the lumps to Neil. 

They trudged forward slowly. The snow came up to Neil’s hips and he dragged his fingers along it as they walked. When they reached the lump, Andrew swiped a hand through the snow, somehow pinpointing the exact spot to reveal the word  _ MASERATI _ gleaming through the powdery white. 

Andrew swept another arm across the top of the hood, and before Neil could realize what was happening he’d turned and smashed a loosely packed snowball in Kevin’s face. 

Kevin sputtered, Andrew smirked, and Neil looked warily between the two of them. 

Once he’d spit most of the snow out of his mouth and wiped at his eyes with a gloved hand, Kevin crossed his arms and stared Andrew down. “Terms?” he asked calmly. 

“Capture the flag,” Andrew said. 

“What?” Neil said. 

“Three hits?” Kevin asked, ignoring him. 

“Five,” Andrew countered. 

“Agreed,” Kevin said seriously. 

“What is happening right now?” Neil cut in. 

They both looked at him like they’d forgotten he was there for a minute. 

“Snowball fight,” Kevin said at the same time that Andrew said, “Capture the flag.” 

Neil shook his head. “Well, which is it?” 

“Both,” they said in unison. 

Andrew punched Kevin’s arm and Kevin grinned. “One person is the flag. The other players try to ‘capture the flag’ so to speak,” he started. 

“If you get hit with five snowballs in the process you are out. The flag can throw snowballs at anyone, the other players can only throw at each other.” Andrew finished. 

Neil frowned. “I think I get it.” 

“Good.” Kevin was still grinning, and he had started gathering snow off the Maserati. 

“Neil,” Andrew said. 

“Yeah?” Neil said, mesmerized by the giant snowball Kevin was building and the fact that Andrew was slowly inching away from Kevin and towards Neil. 

“You’re the flag.” 

Neil stared at Andrew for a beat. “Oh. Shit.” 

Then a grin spread across Neil’s face and he darted forward, snagged Kevin’s snowball, smashed it in Andrew’s face and spun around to take off running - or the best approximation of running he could do in three feet of snow - Kevin crowing behind him that it was a fair hit and Andrew was already down one. 

Neil wasn’t sure he’d ever had so much fun in his life. His lungs sucked in the cold air happily as he ran and dodged, scooped up snow, hid behind trees. The grounds of the hotel were expansive and their game ranged wide. Kevin was tall, but Neil was fast. Andrew’s aim was deadly, but he was slower than both of them and had to get into range. Kevin almost caught him twice, but Neil managed to hit him squarely with snowballs both times, laughing and scrambling safely away while Kevin had to pause and scrape snow out of his face. 

They’d been playing for hours it seemed when Neil found himself running flat out between trees, Andrew close on his heels, and there was no way he would have caught him except for the tree root that grabbed Neil’s foot and threw him face first into a snowbank. 

He had just rolled to his back when Andrew landed on him, having tripped on the same damned tree root. Neil let out a soft “oof” when Andrew hit his chest, and before he could process that, Andrew had rolled off of him to lay in the snow beside him. Kevin’s face appeared just then, grinning down at both of them. 

“I win,” Andrew said. “I captured the Neil.” 

“From where I stood it looked like you fell on the Neil.” 

“Same thing,” Andrew said. 

Kevin reached out his hands, one for each of them, ostensibly to pull them to their feet, but what happened instead is Kevin’s foot sank into the snow as he braced, sending him wobbling, and Kevin landed with a grunt and a curse sprawled on top of both of them. 

Neil couldn’t help it. He laughed. Kevin poked him and Andrew rolled onto his side. Suddenly the three of them were laying in the snow with their faces so close together that Neil could feel Kevin’s warm breath on his face and the tips of Andrew’s hair that weren’t trapped in his beanie brushed against Neil’s cheek. Neil stopped laughing, his breath caught in his throat for some reason as they all stilled, and then Andrew shoved Kevin half off of Neil and got to his feet. 

“I want hot chocolate,” he announced. 

***

They changed into dry clothes. Andrew went in search of hot chocolate for the three of them and Kevin dragged Neil over and deposited him in a deep leather sofa next to the oversized fireplace in the great room. 

“Wait here, I think I saw something in the pub,” Kevin ordered before striding back out of the cozy room. Like everywhere else in the hotel it was decked in holly and ribbon and fairy lights, a huge Christmas tree holding court in one corner. 

Andrew and Kevin reappeared together, Andrew balancing three enormous hot chocolates piled with marshmallows and Kevin with two huge bowls in his hands, one of which he dropped in Neil’s lap. 

“Cranberries?” Neil asked. 

Kevin plopped down on the couch so close to Neil that their thighs were pressed together. “Yep, and popcorn. We’re gonna make garlands for the tree,” he said firmly. Andrew rolled his eyes and passed out the hot chocolate. 

“With cranberries and popcorn?” Neil asked, uncertainly. 

“Yes. It’s a thing. We’re being festive, and like,” Kevin paused and flipped a hand through the air, “isn’t that why you are here?” 

Neil stared at him, feeling something complicated clog up his throat. Kevin’s eyes were incredibly green - like grass in the summer. He winked at Neil. 

Andrew set down next to him and poked his knee. “Do we need to try turning you off and on again?” 

“What?” Neil mumbled, turning to look at him. 

“Did you break?” Andrew asked, snagging the bowl of cranberries off of Neil’s lap. “If you broke, we can try turning you off and on again.” He was sitting close too, cross legged on the couch, his knee touching Neil’s thigh and Neil did not know whose life he was living in but it was not his own. 

Andrew raised an eyebrow and handed Neil a needle threaded with fishing line and then a cranberry. 

They made garlands. They drank hot chocolate. Kevin ranted about the history of Christmas and Christmas trees and Andrew made fun of him. The fire was warm and crackled invitingly. Andrew stole one of Neil’s marshmallows and Kevin called him a flirt - and then Kevin put one of his own marshmallows in Neil’s mug, and Andrew called  _ him _ a flirt. The fairy lights twinkled. Hotel staff brought in plates with sandwiches and cheese and fruit, and they snacked their way through lunchtime. Other guests drifted in and out of the lounge, but the three of them whiled away the afternoon as if there was nowhere else they’d rather be. 

Eventually they had strung every last cranberry and piece of popcorn onto the fishing line. It was impossibly long, and Andrew had amused himself by draping the loops around Kevin and Neil as they went. 

They had to untangle themselves before they could put it on the tree. Kevin did the top part and then handed the loops off to Neil, and he arranged them carefully along the bottom part of the tree before stepping back to look at it. 

“Excellent Christmasing,” Kevin said, surveying their work. Andrew huffed a laugh. 

Neil felt dizzy. “I’m not sure I am awake,” he mumbled. 

Andrew thumped him hard on the cheek, startling him. Neil looked at Andrew. 

“You are awake,” Andrew said. 

***

They had dinner in the pub, and then trudged back up to the suite, overfed on fettuccini and Christmas cookies. Neil was yawning by the time Andrew and Kevin settled on a movie to watch - a twenty minute discussion on the merits of which off-color Christmas classic they would subject Neil to. 

They finally agreed on something called  _ Rare Exports _ and propped Neil’s laptop up on the coffee table. The couch was more of a loveseat, and Neil wasn’t entirely sure all three of them would fit on it, but before he could decide to fold himself up on the floor, Kevin snagged the edge of his hoodie tugging him down and hauling him up against his side. 

“Kevin,” Andrew said in a tone that Neil didn’t quite understand, but Kevin seemed to, because he sighed and leaned down to murmur in Neil’s ear. “Is this okay for you?” 

Neil swallowed. Something about Kevin’s breath on his neck made his heart skip a beat or two. “Yeah,” he said. Andrew snorted softly and turned down the lights before sitting on Neil’s other side and starting the movie. 

It was in Finnish and rather odd, and Neil couldn’t quite focus on what was going on - particularly because about ten minutes into it Andrew slid his hand over to Neil’s and started to idly play with Neil’s fingers. It was distracting, and his heart did the  _ thing _ again. Ten minutes after that Kevin propped his elbow up on the couch and dropped a hand to the back of Neil’s hair, pulling the overlong strands through his fingers, and suddenly Neil couldn’t pay attention to the movie at all. He was a little worried he was going to start purring like a goddamned cat. 

Touch starved is what Jeremy had called him late one night when they were tangled up on his bed together, and it made sense; Neil had never known touch that wasn’t meant to hurt him until he’d met Jeremy and the girls. They’d figured out pretty quickly that Neil wanted all the hugs and snuggles and touches they would give him. 

But that was safe. This felt different. Dangerous in a way Neil wanted to chase after. He gave up on the movie and closed his eyes, felt Kevin’s fingers now tracing idle lines on the back of his neck, Andrew’s thumb circling softly on the inside of his wrist. 

He liked this. A lot. Too much. Behind his closed eyes he started to panic. Because he wasn’t sure what was going on, what Andrew and Kevin wanted from him. Because the last 24 hours had been amazing but - that was the thing. It had been 24 hours. He didn’t know them. They didn’t know him. 

Neil sat up abruptly, pulling away from both of them. He took a breath, and then he was off the couch, in the bedroom, without a word. He closed the door. He sat on the bed. He closed his eyes. He took a breath.

Neil heard the movie stop, the incomprehensible Finnish pausing mid sentence. And then murmuring. Neil opened his eyes and let out a heavy sigh, wondered if he was being dramatic, if he was fucking up the role he was supposed to be playing - that he had enjoyed playing today. Andrew and Kevin were still talking on the other side of the door, though Neil couldn’t make out the words, and he wished desperately for a moment that he’d just stayed on the couch, wished that Andrew’s fingers were still on his wrist and Kevin’s still on his neck. 

He couldn’t help but feel like he’d broken some sort of spell. 

Neil’s eyes flicked around the room rapidly as he tried to decide what to do next, and then his gaze snagged on the chair Andrew had been sitting in that morning when he’d woken up. The sketchbook was laying on it, Andrew’s pencil case on top. Neil stared at it for a moment, and then, slowly, leaned off the bed awkwardly to slide it out from under the pencil case and pull it into his lap. 

Neil opened the sketchbook, wondering idly if this was something that he shouldn’t be doing - bolstering himself with the thought that maybe he was just looking for the hotel ad that Andrew had pilfered. 

Neil turned to the first drawing in the book, and paused. It was Kevin. This one wasn’t charcoal, it was colored pencil - sketched and shaded and overlapped to perfectly capture the exact shade of green of Kevin’s eyes, the muted red hue of his mouth tugged into a warm smile, the curl of his back hair tucked behind an ear. 

Neil turned the page. This one was Kevin too, sitting in an armchair, his feet propped on a table, a book obscuring half of his face but his glare still clear and perfectly rendered. 

Neil flipped again and again. Andrew’s sketches were stunning - and while they were interspersed with cityscapes, and oddly mesmerizing still life drawings - the majority of them were of Kevin. 

Neil’s fingers stilled as he reached the last five drawings. These were of Neil, and one of them was done in colored pencil like the first one of Kevin. Andrew must have woken up much earlier than Neil had realized that morning, because he had no idea when else he could have done these. 

Neil couldn’t stop staring at the shade of his eyes, the icy blue he had shared with his father, perfectly rendered on the page. His auburn hair, the tone of his skin. But it didn’t look like Nathan. It looked like  _ Neil. _

He was still staring at the sketch when there was a brief knock, and then the bedroom door opened. Neil didn’t even think to close the sketchbook, he just stared at Kevin and Andrew hovering in the doorway, his fingertips resting lightly on the sketched outlines of his scars. 

“Can we come in?” Andrew asked, his gaze flicking briefly to the sketchbook open in Neil’s lap. Neil nodded, not sure what to say, and Andrew took the chair in front of him. Kevin sat carefully on the bed at his feet, at least a foot away from touching him, and Neil felt bereft. 

“Neil, we-” Kevin started, then trailed off, blushing a little. He tried again. “This has been - I don’t know how to describe it. This sounds crazy probably, but I feel like I have known you forever. Andrew and I - neither of us make friends very easily, but somehow this has been easy. Very easy. And I am sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It wasn’t - “ 

Neil started shaking his head and cut in. “I’m not uncomfortable. That’s not it. I’m sorry too, I panicked because I feel - I feel  _ too _ comfortable. Like, I don’t see how this is real. I don’t want to run away from this just because it is new, but I don’t know what you want from me.” 

“What do you want?” Andrew asked. 

“I want to rewind back to the couch and the movie, and,” Neil hesitated. “I don’t want to worry about what is going to happen tonight.” 

“Okay,” Andrew said. “We can do that. But you need to know that nothing is going to happen that you don’t want.”

“Okay,” Neil said. Kevin nodded. 

“I like you,” Andrew said. 

“And I like you,” Kevin added. 

“This is weird for us too,” Andrew said. 

“But do you like us?” Kevin cut in, and Andrew threw a glare at him. 

“As in, like-like?” Neil clarified. 

Andrew rolled his eyes. “What are you, twelve?” 

“I mean. Kind of.” Neil shrugged. “I know nothing about any of this.” 

Kevin raised an eyebrow at that. “Nothing?” 

Neil shrugged somewhat apologetically, not sure how to tl:dr the shit show that had been his life. 

“Surely you’ve dated,” Andrew said, gesturing at Neil’s face and just, his general vicinity. 

“No, I haven’t.” Neil frowned, confused. “What does this-” he paused to wave his hand in the air similarly to how Andrew had - “mean.” 

Andrew let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes for a moment before pinning Neil with his intense hazel gaze. “You are incredibly hot. You must know that. It is a little surprising that you haven’t dated.” 

“Oh,” Neil said, rather dumbstruck. 

“Oh, he says,” Andrew says dryly. 

“Okay but, do you like us?” Kevin asked again.

“I-,” Neil paused. “Is that allowed?”

“Is what allowed?” Andrew asked.

“The  _ us _ part,” Neil said.

Andrew and Kevin exchanged a glance. “It can be,” Kevin said. 

“What does that mean?” Neil said.

“We don’t know,” Andrew told him. 

“But we are willing to figure it out,” Kevin added. 

“Okay,” Neil said. “But what about this.” He flipped carefully back to the first page of the sketchbook and turned it around so it was facing Kevin and Andrew, Kevin’s green eyes luminescent on the page. Neil turned the page. “And this,” he said. He turned another page. “And this.” 

Kevin frowned at the sketchbook and then at Andrew. “You haven’t shown me these before,” Kevin said quietly.

“Technically, I am not showing them to you now,” Andrew said. 

“Andrew?” Kevin said carefully.

“Kevin,” Andrew said warily.

“Do you like-like me?” Kevin asked, a grin tugging at his lips.

“Oh. My. God.” Andrew groaned dramatically. 

“I don’t think you two know any more about this shit than I do,” Neil said. He closed the sketchbook and handed it to Andrew. 

Kevin considered him thoughtfully, then looked at Andrew for a moment, then back to Neil again. “I think we should try something,” he said finally.

Neil realized Kevin was looking at his lips and Andrew was watching both of them intently, and Neil’s pulse lept. Kevin reached out slowly and carded his fingers into Neil’s hair, just behind his ear. “Can I?” he asked. 

Neil didn’t trust his words so he just nodded jerkily twice, and then Kevin closed his eyes, and kissed him.

It was his first kiss, and Neil’s world turned sideways with the press of Kevin’s lips, the swipe of his tongue, their shared breath. 

When Kevin pulled away and searched his face, Neil blinked stupidly and said, “I hadn’t done that before.” 

“Fuck,” Andrew cursed softly and quietly, and then he was standing in front of Neil, tilting Neil’s chin up and, dazed, Neil said, “Yes,” before Andrew could even ask, and then he was being kissed stupid again. 

Andrew’s lips were warm and his mouth overwhelming and this was definitely not Neil’s life. 

Neil was buzzing when Andrew let him go, and he watched, entranced, as Kevin reached out, linked fingers with Andrew and pulled him into a kiss just inches from Neil’s face. 

They were beautiful. Watching Kevin and Andrew kiss sent Neil’s heart into backflips through his chest and he was torn between wanting to watch them forever and wanting someone to kiss him again. 

Neil was pleased to find that he got to do quite a bit more of both that night. 

***

Neil woke on Christmas morning to his phone buzzing on the bedside table. He was still half asleep when he started to reach for it, which was maybe why he didn’t realize someone was wrapped around him like a koala, snoring in his ear, and he couldn’t reach far enough. 

His phone landed in his hand then and he looked up to see Andrew settling back in the chair, sketchbook in his lap. Neil blinked at his phone, Jeremy’s face coming into focus under  _ INCOMING CALL, _ a picture Alzarez had taken just as Jeremy took a huge bite of pizza. 

“Hey ‘Remy,” he said as quietly as he could. 

“MERRY CHRISTMAS,” Jeremy shouted in his ear. It was loud enough that Kevin startled behind him, but then sunk back down again, nuzzling into Neil’s neck. 

“Merry Christmas you goof,” Neil yawned. 

“Why are you whispering?” 

“Because you woke me up,” Neil said. 

“Really? Isn’t it like, afternoon in England?” 

Oh shit. “Um,” Neil hedged. Andrew had looked up from his sketch and was watching him, and Kevin had woken up properly now and had his chin propped on Neil’s shoulder. “Okay so. I lied. I am not in England. I’m really sorry. I will explain everything.” 

There was silence on the other end for a moment and then, “Where are you?” 

“Pennsylvania.” 

“Are you alone?” 

Kevin squeezed his arm. Neil smiled and felt a little giddy. “No. I’m not alone.”

After he had hung up Andrew came to the bed and shoved at both of them until they scooted over, making enough room for Andrew to lay down next to Neil.

“Your other octopus?” Andrew asked. 

Neil huffed a small laugh. “Yeah. Jeremy.”

“Why did you lie to Jeremy about where you were going?” Kevin asked.

Neil sighed. “I just didn’t want to be a burden.”

“You are an idiot,” Kevin said. 

“Yeah,” Neil agreed. 

“The roads opened this morning,” Andrew said neutrally. 

Neil tried not to tense at that. They’d stayed up late talking and kissing and holding hands and it had been - it had been  _ everything. _ They had tentatively talked about New York, and what  _ this _ might look like when they were back after the holidays, but they hadn’t talked about  _ tomorrow. _

And now it was tomorrow. 

Andrew pulled one of Neil’s hands into his, kissed the end of his thumb, and then his pointer finger. “Come with us.”

“Fuck yes! Neil? Will you?” Kevin put his head on Neil’s chest and batted his eyelashes at him. 

Neil hesitated. “To South Carolina?”

“Obviously,” Andrew said, kissing the tip of his pinky.

“My car though.”

“We’ll pick it up on the way back.”

“It’s a rental.”

“Then we can drop if off early somewhere, I am sure there is a fucking Enterprise somewhere in Pennsylvania.”

Neil was quiet. 

“Do you want to come with us?” Kevin asked him softly.

Neil really did. “Yes,” he said. 

“Then what’s the problem?” Andrew asked. 

“What if you get sick of me?” 

“Not possible,” Kevin hummed against his chest.

“I haven’t gotten sick of Kevin yet and he is way more annoying than you,” Andrew said.

Kevin just smirked up at him and said, “Yeah, but you like-like me.” 

Andrew groaned and shoved his hand in Kevin’s face, but then he softened, sliding his fingers into Kevin’s hair before he leaned up and kissed Neil right on his scars. Neil shivered, and drew in a steadying breath. 

Fuck it. “Yeah. Okay. Yeah. Let’s do it.” 

Andrew huffed a little happy sound, and rolled away for a second, coming back with a sketch in hand. It was a perfectly delicate drawing of mistletoe. He held it over their heads with a smirk. “Merry Christmas assholes,” he said.

Neil grinned. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered, and as he leaned up to kiss them, he thought that maybe The Snarky Fox Inn was the best idea he’d ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on tumblr - [justadreamfox](https://justadreamfox.tumblr.com/)


End file.
